Escape to Denmark: Your Rodeway Inn Awaits!
Okay, buckle up buttercups, because we're about to dive headfirst into the… uh… let's call it “charm” of Escape to Denmark: Your Rodeway Inn Awaits! This isn't your glossy-brochure kind of review; we're going full unflinching reality here. Think less "perfect Instagram photo" and more "honest snapshot of daily life."
First Impressions and the Great Accessibility Quest (and a Few Stumbles)
Right off the bat, the accessibility offerings are… ahem… a bit of a mixed bag. The Rodeway Inn claims to be accessible. Which, okay, they have an elevator. Bless. But I always get a sinking feeling. It should be a standard. I'd rate it a tentative "maybe."
- Accessibility: Okay, so technically they tick the boxes. Elevator? Check. But the devil's in the details, folks. Ramp angles? Door widths? I didn't physically test everything because, frankly, that's not what I was there for. But make sure you specifically call ahead and confirm your needs can be met if accessibility is crucial. Don't just take their word for it (the "accessibility" category is checked and the "Facilities for disabled guests" are listed - but this can mean anything - get details)
- Wheelchair Accessible: Another one. I assume some rooms are, but again, verify. Don't be shy about asking for specifics. They probably can't read our minds.
- Elevator: There's one. Thank the heavens. It's crucial for any multi-story hotel and is essential for the disabled.
Speaking of Lounges… and the Elusive On-site Restaurants
So, about those on-site restaurants and lounges… crickets. Okay, maybe not literally crickets, but the vibe I got was "you're on your own, buddy." I didn't see anything in the way of on-site accessible options for food or drinks. (Maybe I missed it? Highly doubtful. But check before you arrive).
- On-site accessible restaurant/lounges: N/A. (This is a HUGE minus if you're relying on this).
The Digital Frontier: Wi-Fi, Internet, and the Ongoing Quest for Connectivity
This is where things should be straightforward. Free Wi-Fi in all rooms? Good. Internet access (both LAN and wireless)? Also good. Thank goodness, because, in our modern age, this is borderline a basic human right. But just because a place says it has Wi-Fi, doesn’t mean it's useful.
- Free Wi-Fi in all rooms! Yes, apparently. A necessity in this digital age.
- Internet: Yep.
- Internet [LAN]: Good for the old school.
- Internet services: Fine.
- Wi-Fi in public areas: Hopefully, to get a decent connection.
Things to Do? Relax? Oh, The Possibilities… (and the Big Question Mark)
Now, this is where it gets interesting. The Rodeway Inn lists a whole bunch of relaxation options. But the reality? I'm deeply, deeply skeptical. Let’s take a whirl:
- Things to do, ways to relax: Body scrub, Body wrap, Fitness center, Foot bath, Gym/fitness, Massage, Pool with view, Sauna, Spa, Spa/sauna, Steamroom, Swimming pool, Swimming pool [outdoor] The brochure says all of this. I seriously, seriously doubt it. Call. Ask. Specifically, ask questions that people in those areas would ask: "What kind of scrubs do you use in the spa?" "How long is the footbath?" "Do I need to book ahead for a massage?". The "Pool with a view" is the most likely, as most Rodeway Inns have pools.
Cleanliness and Safety: The COVID Era Tango (and a Deep Breath)
Okay, let's be honest. We're all a little (or a lot) obsessed with cleanliness these days. So how does the Rodeway Inn measure up? Well, here's what they claim:
- Cleanliness and safety: The usual suspects.
- Anti-viral cleaning products: Good.
- Breakfast takeaway service: Useful.
- Cashless payment service: Convenient.
- Daily disinfection in common areas: Hopeful, but again, I'd want PROOF.
- Doctor/nurse on call: Always good to know.
- First aid kit: Standard.
- Hand sanitizer: A must.
- Hot water linen and laundry washing: Essential.
- Hygiene certification: Hmm. Ask about this.
- Individually-wrapped food options: Necessary now.
- Physical distancing of at least 1 meter: Important.
- Professional-grade sanitizing services: Hopefully so.
- Room sanitization opt-out available: Good for those who are sensitive.
- Rooms sanitized between stays: Good.
- Safe dining setup: If there is dining, then important.
- Sanitized kitchen and tableware items: Assuming that.
- Shared stationery removed: Smart.
- Staff trained in safety protocol: Important.
- Sterilizing equipment: Good.
Food, Glorious Food (or Lack Thereof?)
This is a biggie. Based on what I saw, the dining options are… sparse. And I’m being generous.
- Dining, drinking, and snacking: Limited. Maybe non-existent on-site.
- A la carte in restaurant, Alternative meal arrangement, Asian breakfast, Asian cuisine in restaurant, Bar, Bottle of water, Breakfast [buffet], Breakfast service, Buffet in restaurant, Coffee/tea in restaurant, Coffee shop, Desserts in restaurant, Happy hour, International cuisine in restaurant, Poolside bar, Restaurants, Room service [24-hour], Salad in restaurant, Snack bar, Soup in restaurant, Vegetarian restaurant, Western breakfast, Western cuisine in restaurant: Many, if not all, of these seem unlikely. Again, call to verify.
Services and Conveniences: The Small Things That Matter
Okay, let's run through the basics. These are the little things that can make or break a stay.
- Services and conveniences: The usual checklist.
- Air conditioning in public area: Good.
- Audio-visual equipment for special events: Probably not.
- Business facilities: The usual suspects.
- Cash withdrawal: Useful.
- Concierge: Probably not.
- Contactless check-in/out: Good, in the COVID era.
- Convenience store: Maybe, depending on location.
- Currency exchange: Doubtful.
- Daily housekeeping: Should be expected.
- Doorman: Unlikely.
- Dry cleaning: Maybe, ask.
- Elevator: Important.
- Essential condiments: Assuming.
- Facilities for disabled guests: See above.
- Food delivery: Depending on location.
- Gift/souvenir shop: Unlikely.
- Indoor venue for special events: Doubtful.
- Invoice provided: Standard.
- Ironing service: Ask.
- Laundry service: Ask.
- Luggage storage: Reasonable expectation.
- Meeting/banquet facilities, Meetings, Meeting stationery: Doubtful.
- On-site event hosting: Unlikely.
- Outdoor venue for special events: Maybe, depending on location.
- Projector/LED display: Probably not.
- Safety deposit boxes: A common service.
- Seminars: Doubtful.
- Shrine: I doubt.
- Smoking area: Okay.
- Terrace: Maybe.
- Wi-Fi for special events: Perhaps non-existent.
- Xerox/fax in business center: Old school.
For the Kids (Parents… Brace Yourselves)
- For the kids: Well, the "list" is here.
- Babysitting service: Doubtful.
- Family/child friendly: Again, maybe.
- Kids facilities, Kids meal: Doubtful.
Access: What You Can Expect for the Overall Hotel
- Access: The nuts and bolts.
- CCTV in common areas, CCTV outside property: Hopefully.
- Check-in/out [express] Possibly, depending,
- Check-in/out [private]: No.
- Couple's room: Doubtful.
- Exterior corridor: Likely.
- Fire extinguisher: Safety first!
- Front desk [24-hour]: Expect it.
- Hotel chain: Rodeway Inn.
- Non-smoking rooms: Standard.
- Pets allowed: Ask, always.
- Proposal spot: Well…
- Room decorations, Doubtful.
Alright, buckle up buttercup, because we're about to dive headfirst into the glorious, slightly-worn, and utterly unpredictable world of… a trip to the Rodeway Inn in Denmark, TN! (Yes, that Denmark, not the cool one with the pastries and minimalist furniture.) Consider this less of a meticulously-crafted itinerary, and more of a… well, a rambling, slightly-panicked journal entry. Wish me luck, I'm gonna need it.
Day 1: Arrival and Existential Dread (and a Questionable Pool)
- 1:00 PM: Arrive in Jackson, TN. The drive in was… let's just say the GPS had a very liberal definition of "scenic route." Think endless highways and the unsettling feeling that you're the only person on Earth who hasn't seen a Cracker Barrel. My pre-trip optimism, fueled by too much coffee, is already starting to fray around the edges.
- 2:00 PM: Check into the Rodeway Inn. Okay, okay, it's… functional. The lobby smells vaguely of industrial cleaner and… something else. Something I can't quite place. Let's call it "ambiguous motel scent." The clerk? She was… busy. Typing ferociously on a computer that looked older than I am. I swear, she almost bit my head off for asking about the WiFi password (which, by the way, is "welcome2023" - groundbreaking stuff).
- 2:30 PM: Room inspection. The air conditioning sounds like a dying walrus, and the TV remote requires a PhD in electrical engineering to operate. The bedspread? Let's just say I'm pretty sure it predates the invention of the internet. But hey, at least the… ahem… "pool" is open. (I use the term loosely. More on that later.)
- 3:00 PM - 5:00 PM: Attempt to relax/fight off existential dread. I tried to read, but the flickering fluorescent lights and the rhythmic thrum of the AC made it impossible. Ended up staring out the window, watching the vast expanse of… parking lot. Felt a sudden, overwhelming urge to call my therapist.
- 5:00 PM: The Pool: Oh, dear sweet Lord. I braved the "pool." The water was… green-ish. And the smell… chlorine, yes, but also something… organic. There were leaves. Lots of leaves. And I think I saw a small, furry creature paddling desperately in the deep end. Needless to say, I retreated. Quickly.
- 6:00 PM: Dinner. The only place within walking distance was… a fast-food restaurant. Let's just say the "burger" was an experience I'm still processing. Think compressed meat product, unsettlingly orange cheese, and fries that defy the laws of physics. They were simultaneously soggy and rock-hard. Truly a culinary paradox.
Day 2: Pursuing the Local Charm (and Questioning Decisions)
- 8:00 AM: Breakfast. The "complimentary breakfast" consisted of… pre-packaged muffins (cardboard-esque), instant coffee that tasted faintly of despair, and a selection of sugary cereals that would make a five-year-old's eyes light up. I opted for the coffee and the crushing weight of my own disappointment.
- 9:00 AM: Attempt to find some local "charm." Decided to drive around the area. Found a Dollar General, a gas station, and a lot of… long, empty roads. Saw a sign for a "tractor supply store," which, in retrospect, sounds like a thrilling excursion.
- 10:00 AM: Museum of West Tennessee. I needed something to boost my spirits! This was a mistake. Inside, I found a collection of questionable artifacts and historical displays. Exhibit A: The history of cotton agriculture, featuring mannequins in period garb and the smell of… well, old cotton. Exhibit B: The story of Jackson, TN. This exhibit was so boring that I seriously considered taking a nap right there on the exhibit floor, but my desire to avoid embarrassment won out. Also, I think I heard one of the mannequins whisper something about the meaning of life. Yikes!
- 12:00 PM: Lunch. I should've packed a sandwich. Instead, I spent an eternity in a gas station looking for sustenance - it was here that I witnessed the true meaning of sadness. The people that I say here were so glum, I nearly had an episode.
- 1:00 PM: Back at the Rodeway. Contemplating the meaning of life. And the questionable state of the pool. And the fact that I’m pretty sure the air conditioning is actively trying to stage a coup.
- 2:00 PM: Decide to take a walk. The scenery is… well, it’s there. The highlight? A particularly determined squirrel. I named him Reginald. He reminds me of myself – determined to get somewhere, even if I don't know where that is.
- 3:00 PM - 5:00 PM: I spent the remainder of the afternoon trying to get a decent Wi-Fi connection to stream something to watch. I failed because I felt the universe was against me.
- 6:00 PM: Head to the diner for dinner for the only hot-place meal I can find in this part of the country.
Day 3: Escape! (And Final Thoughts)
- 7:00 AM: Another cardboard-muffin breakfast. Decided to skip the coffee this time. I think my soul can only handle so much.
- 8:00 AM: Pack up my things. The room feels strangely… empty, now that I’m leaving. In a weird way, I have grown attached to it. (No, just kidding, I want out!)
- 9:00 AM: Check out. The clerk is still at her post, typing ferociously. I resist the urge to ask her if she’s okay. I just hand over the key and make a beeline for the door.
- 9:15 AM: Drive away from the Rodeway Inn. And Denmark, TN. And the crushing weight of my own expectations.
- 10:00 AM: Reflect. Okay, it wasn't all bad. I survived. I saw a squirrel. I ate a burger (maybe). And I have a story. Maybe not the story I was expecting, but a story nonetheless.
- 11:00 AM: Vow to invest in a better GPS and a therapist who specializes in post-motel trauma.
- 12:00 PM: Arrive back at home. This is the place I would like to be, always.
So, there you have it. The unvarnished truth about my journey! Was it the idyllic getaway I'd envisioned? Absolutely not. But it was… an experience. And sometimes, those are the most important ones, right? (Right? Someone tell me I made the right decision!) Now, if you'll excuse me, I need a long, hot shower and a stiff drink. And maybe a therapist on speed dial.
Adina Canberra: Canberra's Hottest Hotel? You Won't Believe This!
Escape to Denmark: Rodeway Inn Blues (and Maybe Not-So-Blues?) - FAQs They *Should* Have Had
1. Seriously, Denmark? In a Rodeway Inn? What Were You *Thinking*?
Okay, look. Shut up. I get it. Denmark. The *happiest* country in the world, right? And... a Rodeway Inn. It's like pairing a Michelin-starred chef with a microwave. It's a mismatch. Total. But here's the deal: Budget. And, more importantly, *time*. I scored a crazy, ridiculously cheap flight – think like, “steal of the century” cheap. And the only hotel options left were…well, let's just say the Rodeway Inn felt like the last lifeboat on the Titanic. Still, Denmark! I figured I could grit my teeth, embrace the beige, and focus on those glorious pastries. And hey, maybe it wouldn't be *all* bad? Right? ...Right? (Spoiler alert: It wasn't *all* bad. But the beige… oh, the beige…)
2. So, The Room. Spill the Tea. Was it Moldy? Did You See a Ghost? (Come On, Give Us the Good Stuff!)
Okay, the room. My *room*. It wasn't moldy. Thankfully. No ghosts either. (I'm kinda disappointed, honestly. That would've made for a MUCH better story). What it *was*, was…functional. Clean-ish. The carpet had that classic Rodeway Inn, "seen-a-thousand-vacations" vibe. You know the one? It looked like it had absorbed the existential dread of countless weary travelers. The bathroom? Tiny. The shower head shot water in about seven different directions, none of which were *directly* at me. But, hey, hot water. And the bed? Let's just say it was…firm. Like, “sleeping on a park bench” firm. My back ached, but hey, at least I could *feel* alive, right? Oh, and the view? Lovely. Of the parking lot. And a very determined looking pigeon. He was *clearly* planning something.
3. Did You Actually *Leave* the Hotel? Like, Did You *See* Denmark?
Yes! Yes, I did! I was there for like, a week, and I'd be a total fool to stay cooped up in that lovely, beige room. Copenhagen is *amazing*. Think colourful buildings, cute canals, the Little Mermaid (who, let me tell you, is smaller than you imagine and *constantly* surrounded by tourists), and the sheer, unadulterated *joy* of watching people bike everywhere, like, *everywhere*. I actually got lost in the Christiania free town - that was an experience. The food was…well, it was Scandinavian, so there's rye bread, lots of smoked things, and things that are a little...acquired taste. But hey, the pastries! The *pastries* were worth the entire trip, Rodeway Inn and all. Seriously, go find a *wienerbrød* right now. You won't regret it.
4. Food, Glorious Food (Or Not). What About the Breakfast Situation? Continental? (Ugh, I Shudder.)
Ah, breakfast. The Rodeway Inn Breakfast. Okay, deep breaths. It was...continental. Yes, it was. Imagine, a buffet table of varying degrees of blandness. Think stale bagels, strangely yellow scrambled eggs (those might have been from a packet…don't judge me), some suspect-looking fruit, and instant coffee that tasted vaguely of despair. I tried to be optimistic! I really did. I grabbed a waffle, drizzled some syrup, took a bite, and… *sigh*. It was a metaphor. A metaphor for the entire experience. But, but! There *was* a little toaster. And I found a jar of something described as "Danish butter." Okay, maybe the breakfast wasn't *utterly* horrific. Besides, I knew the Danish pastries awaiting me in the city would compensate. And did they ever!
5. The Staff. Were They, Like, Surprisingly Lovely? Or Did They Just Ignore You at the Desk?
The staff? They were…fine. Perfectly…functional. They weren't rude, but they certainly weren't overflowing with Danish warmth. It was a very "transactional" relationship, if you catch my drift. I think the best compliment is that I don't remember them *failing* at their jobs. So, that's something. The one time I *did* need help (I lost my phone charger, don't ask), they, uh, eventually helped me locate an outlet. So, yes. Points for competence, I suppose. And they didn't try to sell me any timeshares. Progress!
6. The Best/Worst Part? Come on, give us the drama!
Okay, best and worst? This is tough. The *best* part? Definitely the city itself. Copenhagen captured my heart, even if the Rodeway Inn tried its best to steal it. The worst? Oh, the *worst*… it wasn't a *single* thing, really. It was the *cumulative* effect. The beige. The breakfast. The…lack of anything remotely *memorable* about the hotel itself. It was just…a place. But the true *highlight*? The one thing I will *never* forget? It happened *early* one morning. I woke up, bleary-eyed, and stumbled to the (miniscule) bathroom. I turned on the shower…and nothing. No water. No noise. Just…silence. I fiddled with the knobs. Nothing! I considered a cold shower (brrr!). Then, I noticed a little sign taped to the mirror: "Hot water may be temporarily unavailable due to maintenance." *Maintenance*?! At, like, 7 AM?! Seriously?! That's it. That truly solidified everything for me. I swear to god, it felt like a cruel joke. You know, on the part of the universe. It was beautiful and terrible all at once. That's the Rodeway Inn, in my book. And honestly? I wouldn't trade it for anything. (Well, maybe a nicer hotel now and then)
7. So, Would You Recommend it? Seriously?
Here's the thing. Would I *recommend* the Rodeway Inn, specifically? No. Absolutely not. Unless they've renovated it and installed, like, a butler and a free bar (and a GOOD breakfast). But, would I recommend going to Denmark, even if the *only* option involves a slightly questionable hotel? YES! A thousand times yes! Embrace the beige. Embrace the questionable coffee. Embrace the *experience*. Because, honestly, it's all part of the story. And the story -- the *real* story -- is about Denmark. And the pastries. And the joy of just *being* somewhere new. So go. Go to Denmark. Just, maybe…check other hotel options first. And bring your own coffeeEasy Hotel Hunt
Rodeway Inn Denmark-Jackson Denmark (TN) United States
Rodeway Inn Denmark-Jackson Denmark (TN) United States
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